


Where It All Began

by AgataVarano



Series: Scar [6]
Category: Doctor Strange (2016), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Cute, Dorks in Love, Gen, Hugs, Major Character Undeath, My baby has a crush omg, Please protect them, Stephen Strange being cute
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-13
Updated: 2020-07-13
Packaged: 2021-03-04 21:08:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,959
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25242910
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AgataVarano/pseuds/AgataVarano
Summary: What happens when you go back to where it all began?
Relationships: Natasha Romanov (Marvel) & Original Female Character(s), Stephen Strange & Original Female Character(s), Tony Stark & Original Female Character(s), Wong (Marvel) & Original Character(s)
Series: Scar [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1826437
Kudos: 2





	Where It All Began

**Author's Note:**

> • English is not my first language, so I'm sorry if there are any mistakes.  
> • You can find this and more fics on my Tumblr @/let-me-write-my-life and my Instagram @/agata_varano.

_ I'm not afraid of the dark, dark, darkness in me. - Stitched Up Heart (Darkness) _

"Are you almost done?" The deep voice of a man breaks the almost total silence of the laboratory. 

"Yes, sir. The machines are ready. We just need to wait for Mrs Blake's team to complete the serum for memory loss," a young woman answers, her hands clenching around the green binder. 

The man grins in response. "It's been four years. Four years to finally solve the problem my father created, but now we're almost there, we've almost made it. I brought back home what my father had lost." He smiles while his monologue prints in his head, the young researcher nodding and pressing the documents harder against her chest, as to protect the secret written on them.

A blonde woman approaches the two, a strong floral scent invading their nostrils. "Feige, if you don't mind, I have to go," she says as her ice eyes study his face before throwing a quick glance to the scientist.

The man pays little to no attention to the blondie and her thick Russian accent, nodding and gesturing her a greeting. He doesn't even notice the same woman touching a few buttons on a machine as she passes by. He's too busy imagining his success to care.

The autumn wind is cold, the orange leaves on the sidewalk crunching under Katrina's boots. She crosses her arms on her chest as a couple of teens walks past her complaining about the terrible weather. She snorts. She was born in Russia, where 42°F didn't even classify as "slightly cold".

As she crosses the street, her mind goes to the messages she had left to the redhead Russian spy and, deep down, she hopes everything works out just fine and someone will soon be able to decipher them. She doesn't even want to think what would happen if her plan fails.

In Bleecker Street there's no one in sight. Katrina looks around herself, searching for the building she's looking for. Not that it was hard to recognize: the Sanctum Sanctorum can't be confused with any of the other townhouses in the street. She knocks on the door and waits for an answer, hoping the so called "Master of Mystic Arts" isn't as dumb as his hiding abilities suggest. 

The Asian man who opens the door carefully studies her appearance, deciding whether he should let her in or not. "Are you looking for someone?" He finally asks. 

She bites her bottom lip, surprised to feel tension growing inside of her. "I need to talk with a sorcerer called Doctor Strange. It's something  _ extremely _ important." 

The man looks behind himself, where Katrina suspects someone is suggesting him what to do. When he brings his gaze back to the spy, he nods, moving to the side to let her in. She's about to step in when the man stops her with an arm. "If you just need to talk, I'm sure you can leave your weapons here." 

Katrina nods annoyed as she hands him her gun and knife. Maybe these sorcerers are not as stupid as she thought. 

"Strange is in the room on your left," the man adds when he's sure the spy has no more firearms on her. 

Katrina enters what looks like a living room, instantly hit by the strong sandalwood scent. The sorcerer is standing there in some blue robes and with a red cloak on his shoulders. To her great surprise, the piece of clothing moves on his own, as to study the guest. He turns to Katrina with his arms crossed on his chest, his hands covered in yellow gloves. "Hi, I'm Doctor Stephen Strange. How can I help you?" 

The woman looks around herself for any possible threat before answering. "I don't need anything from you, but maybe you may need something from me." 

Strange furrows his brows and gestures to a chair, inviting the woman to sit down. "What are you talking about, miss-?" 

"I heard you worked against the Agency X," she cuts short, trying to avoid to say her name.  _ "Lee won't need it," _ she thinks before sitting in front of the man.

The sorcerer's expression suddenly turns dark. "And you're wrong. It was… well… a friend of mine." 

Katrina stares at him, her eyes full of pity and regret. If she had known what she was doing... "Doesn't matter. You protect this reality, don't you?" She doesn't wait for an answer. "Amazing, 'cause the head of the Agency is now leading a project to break the walls between this dimension and another one. If you're interested, I can tell you everything I know, which is quite a lot." 

The man looks at her right in the eyes, determined to keep his promise not to have any more contact with terrorists and spies of any kind. "So you work for them. And tell me, miss, why would you help me?" 

Why? She doesn't even know it herself. Maybe because she's sorry, maybe because she was wrong all along, maybe because seeing others get back on their feet makes you feel like you can do it too. Or maybe she's just playing her role of double agent well enough to fool herself just like everyone else.

"It's none of your business. If you don't trust me, I'm leaving." She says, starting to get up.  _ "I've played with people way more stubborn than you, Strange." _

"No, wait!" He stretches out an arm to stop her. When he's sure she's not going anywhere, getting comfortable again on the chair, he lets out a breath.  _ "Here we go again." _ "Tell me more about this thing."

Who knew death could be this boring? Spending eternity in a dark, empty place you know nothing about and that, for some reason you don't understand, is connected to how you were born. The only thing to ever happen is an occasional feeling of intense and long lasting pain, probably caused by the interaction between the Substance Y around and the Substance Y inside her body. 

Lara closes her eyes again and inspires, laying with her back on the ground. She has no idea how much time has passed, she has no idea where she is, she has no idea if this torture she's through will ever end. She just hopes this is not how death is supposed to be: finding out many people she was close to are going through the same thing would hurt her too much. 

She stares at what she considers the ceiling of a room that doesn't exist, its purple undertones glowing as unknown chemical reactions happen inside it. She raises an arm, feeling that what she thought was meters above her is actually much closer. Her fingers touch the cold stone-like substance and suddenly it disappears. Now it's further from her, out of her reach. 

The only thing she has learned during this undefined time is that nothing is stable in the Dimension Z. What is close can suddenly become far and the other way around. What is cold can turn hot and what hurts when touched can start healing. No laws apply in this dimension. Gravity only exist if she wants it to. Matter can be created and destroyed. Everything she studied as a chemist doesn't work, no matter how convinced the teacher who taught it to her was. 

She breathes in again. Air burns in her lungs as if it was fire. Her heart beats faster and as she closes her eyes she can feel it in her head, reminding her she's not dead, not completely. She's not dead, but she's not alive. She's in between.  _ "Between what is matter and what is not." _ The words of the young scientist are still clear in her mind, even though the sound of his voice, of everyone's voice, was lost long before. 

A thought crosses her mind. Is he still alive? Has he already died? Has everyone she sacrificed for died? She doesn't receive an answer, around her there's just the unnatural silence of that place, and she damns the universe for creating such a place and the entire human race for deceiving her that hell would have been warm and crowded.

Instead, hell is frozen, colder than anything Lara has ever experienced. And it's empty, silent, deadly silent. It's so silent that she can hear her hot breaths leaving her lungs and her blood running in her veins faster, adjusting to her unnatural heart rate.

And then she hears a sound, a subtle hiss, as something was tearing the walls she's surrounded by. In front of her, an opening appears, big and bright. Lara stares at it, having no idea what it is and hoping she's not just gone crazy.

Then she thinks that, whatever that portal is, it must lead her somewhere. How many dimensions actually exist? Thousands, millions, but all of them are better than that long, infinite agony of pain and silence. She doesn't even think about it and steps into the portal, falling down a white, luminous hole.

Her body crashes against something hard, a dark bookshelf full of books and photos, one of which ungracefully falls down and hits her right in the head. Lara doesn't have the time to massage her nape before a box full of documents, whose position had been made unstable by the witch's fall, tips on her, covering her in paper. 

She swears under her breath as she sits up, inspecting the place, which looks quite familiar. She recognizes the blue bed, now covered in dust, the dark blinds, the books on the shelf above the bed, the floor board moved and roughly covered with the grey carpet. She recognizes everything, she recognizes her bedroom, her house, the same house she had left time before to move to Philadelphia. 

She stands up and looks around herself, the cold wind creeping through the blinds. When she kneels beside the bed and moves the carpet, she finds the hiding place of her most precious belongings still untouched. The phone is turned off, her authentic documents are there, covered by dust but still there. She turns on her phone, staring at the notifications increasing. The clock on the screen is still showing the date "10th September 2019". 

A loud noise comes from the living room, as if someone had broken into the house by forcing the door lock. She goes out in the hallway, calling her powers and carefully waiting for signs of another presence in the building. The floor creaks under her weight as she goes downstairs and she silently curses the old wood she's walking on. 

She hears a voice, a deep voice that she immediately recognizes, asking: "Who's there?" 

She rushes down the last wooden steps, her eyes opening wide when they meet the sight of Stephen Strange. "Stephen?" She stutters. He hasn't changed at all expect for the yellow gloves now covering his hands. 

He parts his lips, but is unable to speak. He closes them and just stares at the witch who is now moving towards him. 

Lara is about to say something, but is stopped by the sorcerer's arms suddenly wrapping around her in a tight hug. She shyly hugs him back, her arms around his neck, and she wonders if Stephen has started carrying around Substance Y because she can feel her heart beating faster and faster in her chest. It feels strange - no pun intended - having Stephen's warm breath on her neck and his face buried in her hair. 

She doesn't know how much time passes before she speaks, maybe two minutes, maybe an hour. "Stephen, how- how much time has passed?" She says, no more used to the sound of her voice, as she steps away from the man. 

"Four years… and a couple of months, I guess," he answers unsure, his eyes not moving from her face as if she could disappear any moment.

Lara freezes. Four years. She's been dead for four years. Now she's back, but… can she stay with Stephen? Is S.H.I.E.L.D. still looking for her? Does she have to live on the run again? 

She's about to ask all of these things when the Cloak of Levitation tightly wraps itself around her, his soft fabric covering her body. 

She giggles and turns her head to it. "You missed me too, didn't you?" The Cloak shakes as to nod and holds her waist tighter with his slaps. 

"He particularly missed your fabric softener." Stephen smiles, earning a smirk by the witch.

"Douchebag," she whispers under her breath as she strokes the piece of clothing like a cat.

"HOW THE F*CK DID IT HAPPEN?" Jonas Feige's screams fill the room, rage painting his face red as he throws his hands up in the air. 

A young man shyly steps forward. "We have no idea, sir. We operated the machines without noticing someone had changed the coordinates of the landing spot." His fingers, tightly laced together, are shaking.

Jonas moves back and forth across the room, shaking his head. "Thirty-five million dollars, four years of work and two head of department arrested for what? For you idiots not to notice someone had betrayed  _ me _ ?!" 

The scientist swallows and stutters, trying in vain to explain himself, but a woman interrupts him. 

"You promised us we'd get her back, Feige. We helped you kill your father, but you failed to complete your only task." She shoots daggers at him with her eyes, her words hinting severe punishments for traitors and incapable people.

Jonas is now the one who stutters, panicking under the woman's deadly gaze. "Don't worry, Houghton. We'll find the traitor, I swear, just give me time." He plays with the collar of his shirt out of tension, his head filling with the worst curses.

"Time, time, you  _ always _ need time. Your father may have been weak, but you are incompetent." She answers raising her tone as she steps closer go him and points her finger to his chest. "Don't play with my patience, Feige. I will not hesitate to get rid of you if you do."

Jonas laughs anxiously, but suddenly stops when he reads anger on the woman's face. With a cough, he sits back at his desk. "We'll find the witch in no time, won't we?" He adds, looking at Katrina, who's casually standing by his side. 

"Oh? Yeah, yeah, of course we will," the spy answers, suddenly waking up from her daydreaming session.  _ "No, you won't, she's smarter than you." _ She lowers her brows.  _ "Not that it's difficult." _

As the room empties, Jonas stops Katrina from leaving, his eyes still set to the glass surface of the table. "Popova, I know I can trust you." 

She crosses her arms on her chest. "What do you want me to do?" 

He brings his gaze up to the door. "Find out who betrayed me, who betrayed  _ us _ ," he says, trying to convince himself he's the one in charge and not just a puppet in someone else's hands.

Katrina nods. "I will."  _ "What an idiot." _

She's about to leave, when Jonas calls her again. "Popova!" 

She turns, afraid the man has finally connected neurons. "What?" She asks unkindly, a hand cautiously moving to the pocket where she keeps her gun.

He doesn't even look up at her, too busy playing with his pen. "Maybe ask Shinn where she has been today." 

Katrina nods again.  _ "Yes, he's definitely an idiot." _

When Lara enters the Sanctum, she's surprised by how perfectly she remembered it. She's lost in her thoughts when she hears a voice. 

"There must have been a lot of traffic for you to be so late." Her gaze meets Wong, standing by the door of the living room. 

"Yeah, I probably should have called to warn you," she answers with a grin. 

Wong just nods and pats her on the shoulder. "Missed you, Johnson." 

"Missed you too." Lara turns her head to Stephen, who's freeing himself of the Cloak. "Now can you please explain me why you were in my house? Because according to your reaction I seriously doubt you knew I was there." 

Stephen crosses his arms on his chest. "It's quite a long story. Let's just say that someone who's working for the Agency X knew about you and sent me there. She said the Agency was breaking the walls between this dimension and another one and the location she gave me was your house."

Lara bites her bottom lip as she stares at the floor, a confused expression on her face, then brings her eyes back to the sorcerer. "All this time I've been in a dimension called Dimension Z. I know the Agency has access to it because it's where the Substance Y I have in my blood comes from. Moreover, I came back here through a crack in the walls of said dimension, which could mean your friend was right. What I don't understand is... why? Why would they bring me back and tell you?" 

Wong makes a few steps forward. "To be honest, I don't think they actually wanted us to know. There would be no reason, especially considering you're no longer wanted by S.H.I.E.L.D." He looks at Stephen. "That woman was too cautious to be supported by terrorists."

After a moment of silence, Wong brings his face back to Lara. "Maybe you still have friends among those agents, or maybe that woman just really hates the new boss." 

Lara remains silent, trying to understand the logic behind the most recent events. Perhaps Wong is right, but she can't really think of anyone who could decide to help her. Why would someone risk so much to help her? She can't think of anyone who would… Then she realizes.  _ "I owe you one." _ She freezes. "Tell me, Wong, do you remember if this woman had some kind of accent?"

"You really should not drink that much coffee," the spy says looking up from her book.

The inventor shrugs. "And you really should mind your own business." 

Natasha rolls her eyes at Tony, who's pouring himself his tenth (and most likely not last) cup of coffee. 

"Miss Romanoff is right. Too high caffeine consumption can cause raised blood pressure, insomnia and anxiety, among other issues." Vision's robotic voice joins the conversation. 

Tony steps away from the counter, a filled cup in his hands. "Whatever, but since Houdini is coming I would like not to fall asleep in the middle of his rambling." He takes a sip, ignoring his hand slightly shaking and Natasha's judging expression.

Sam looks up from his phone and turns to the inventor. "Now that you're mentioning it, what does he want from us?" He leans forward with his elbows on his knees. "I thought he was done with S.H.I.E.L.D after Lara's death." 

"Yeah, about that..." Stephen says as he enters the room, his eyes studying every person in the room.

Everyone's attention quickly moves from the sorcerer's sudden arrival to the woman standing right next to him, who slightly tilts her head to the side as a hint of a smile forms on her lips. 

"Hi, it's been a long time, hasn't it?" 

Tony almost chokes on his coffee, spitting it back in the mug and coughing in his hand. 

Steve inhales a sharp breath. "What the fu-" 

"Language!" Bruce shouts at the super soldier, before turning his head back to Lara. "I'm sorry, how did you do that? I mean… dying and coming back… you know..." 

Lara moves a stroke of hair behind her ear, a smirk creeping on her lips. "Who says I'm not just a ghost here to hunt you all 'till the end of your days?" 

Tony laughs as he places his mug on the counter near the sink, then turns to Stephen. "I had no idea you could summon the deads, Merlin." 

The man rolls his eyes at the nickname, tapping his fingers on his crossed arms, and Lara smirks, glad to see she's not the only one who enjoys torturing sorcerers.

Setting his eyes on the witch, Steve gets up from the couch he's been sitting on the whole time. "Last time someone I knew came back-"

She smiles. "Sorry, I don't have a knife with me." She pauses. "At the moment."

Bruce moves his gaze between the super soldier and the witch. "Can we please go back to my question? How did you get here?"

Crossing her arms on her chest, Lara sets her eyes on his face. "I have no idea. Absolutely nothing. Zero. The picture couldn't be more unclear."

Rhodey sets his eyes on her, casually leaning against a table. "Well, that's not bad."

Thor, who despite his brother's numerous deaths has not grown used to resurrections yet, smiles and pats Lara on the back. "I'm happy to see again, witch. Are you guys coming in or-?"

Two hours and an insane amount of drinks later, Lara is stifling a laugh at Natasha's last sarcastic comment on her dear captain. She catches Stephen staring down at her and smirks, resting her forearms on the counter.

She's finally back to normality, her own unconventional concept of normality, but pleasant nonetheless. A part of her doesn't even care how she got back and just wants to rest, to slow down once and for all, but Lara knows that she'd never be able to live without discovering the truth.

It's almost midnight and Lara is about to leave with Stephen, when Natasha calls her.

The two sit on the couch, away from the others, and Natasha tilts her head to the side. "You know, after you were gone… I took over your old project with the Agency X. I knew you cared a lot about it, so I didn't want it to be left uncompleted." She moves a stroke of hair behind her ear. "But I had no idea where to begin. Not until an unknown informer began sending me coordinates, projects, documents and all kind of things in the same way as you did. When I tried to contact them, I was sent in a visibly uninhabited flat in Boston and for a little time they never sent anything else." 

The spy pauses to capture Lara's reaction and only continues when she gives her a sign to go on. "A couple of days ago, an Agency X base was found not far from Newark thanks to someone who claims to work for an organisation called "Iarna Rusă," but when I got there with Steve and Sam, everyone had already left. But we found this." She concludes, taking something out of her pocket and handing it to Lara.

It's a scrap of paper with a short sentence written in cyrillic letters (семья змей задушит тигра и орла, если дочь не искупит сына) and a long series of numbers (10091984-5562848).

Natasha concludes. "I hope this can help you somehow."

Lara smiles. "Thank you. A lot. For everything." She hugs her friend and gets up, heading to the sorcerer.

"Earthquake!" 

Lara turns with a smirk, Tony putting his hand on her shoulder. "I hoped you had forgotten about that name, Stark." 

He smiles for a second. "Never. Anyway, are you okay?" His eyes are set on hers, sincere concern written on his face. 

Lara shrugs. "Yeah, shouldn't I?" 

"You've been dead for years, that's some traumatic experience, I guess." 

Lara smiles, gently freeing herself from his grip. "Don't worry. You'll have to do better than that to traumatize me." 

The corner of his mouth turns upwards as he nods weakly and looks at the witch disappear through a golden portal.


End file.
